


Bedevere

by sparrowhaven, thedovahcat



Series: The Run-Arounds [7]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 10:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10435308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowhaven/pseuds/sparrowhaven, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedovahcat/pseuds/thedovahcat
Summary: (A collab with sparrowhaven! The styles of writing will change a bit during these next couple of parts, but hopefully they're not too awkward to follow. Bedevere will be split up into several chapters because it got too long, and will probably be a recurring original town/bunch of people in the future.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparrowhaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowhaven/gifts).



> (A collab with sparrowhaven! The styles of writing will change a bit during these next couple of parts, but hopefully they're not too awkward to follow. Bedevere will be split up into several chapters because it got too long, and will probably be a recurring original town/bunch of people in the future.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being nearly gunned down by synths, Cat and Hancock have to find some help for the old detective. Fortunately, or unfortunately for them, it seems possible 'help's' found them first.

Everything had gone horribly, horribly wrong. And it was getting worse by the second. Hancock hadn’t ever considered that a laser hole through the chest of someone that couldn’t bleed could be so gut wrenching. But there he was, shouting the name of his synth friend, trying to revive him as the light in his eyes literally went out. Cat was screaming and shaking Nick too. Nothing was working. He should’ve paid more attention, should’ve been more quiet while scavenging, should’ve--

No. There wasn’t any time to waste. Hancock wrapped a heavy arm around his shoulders, grunting in pain as he forced himself to stand and bear the full weight of the synth. 

“What are you doing?” Cat asked, though she tried to assist in hefting up their mutual friend.

“Gotta, look at the hole.” Hancock spoke through gritted teeth. Nick was a lot heavier than he looked. Something to be said about how well built synths are, he supposed. “To fix him. Can’t do it out here, gotta go inside.” He’d make it there, one step at a time if he had to.

“BUT WHAT IF THERE’S--” 

Hancock cut her off. “If there’s more. Then you shoot them.” Nick’s left hand thumped against his lifeless body, the gun still clenched in it. The sound of it grated against what was left of Hancock’s ears. “Take his gun and point the open end at anything that ain’t us.” 

“But--”

The ghoul nearly shouted at her, but bit it back before it could leave his throat. “I’ll be quick. Don’t worry.” There was the fire exit door that Nick had busted open. The dark hallway gaped at them, as if more enemies had already filled the derelict factory and were waiting for the three to arrive in order to pounce. 

But nothing ever came, thankfully.

After little more than a cursory glance, the mayor deemed that he was unable to fix the hole. They'd have to find somebody who could. In the meantime, he untied the flag that was his belt and wadded it up to try to wipe up some of the mess.

“I have an idea on where we could go. I dunno if we'll make it in one piece, but we gotta try.”

“Where's that?”

“Just follow. Make sure nothing follows us. I'll carry him.”  
_____________

Just when all seemed lost, lights appeared in the distance. They were too strong and steady to be torches, but too small to be from synths. The beams swept the area in front of them, drawing ever closer.

With the rain and the rest of the storm only getting worse, the mayor and the girl could only really stay outside for so long. And going back into the factory wasn't exactly an option either.

The only hope they'd have would be to carry the downed synth across the rolling, hole-ridden hills of the northern Commonwealth, in search of the settlement he had mentioned several times before. Something about traders and caravans and who knows what else. Hopefully someone with the know how to patch him up, because a torn up state flag sure wasn't proving to be very helpful.

"Oh god- ok ok wait- ok keep going." Hancock had already lost count as to how many times he'd nearly dropped the poor bastard of a detective. A wounded arm of course didn't make things any easier.

Once they saw the beams up ahead, he swore up and down and slid down into a nearby ditch, yanking Cat with him.

"WHAT?? WHAT IS IT, OH G-"

"Pipe down- don't move. Thought I heard noise," There was no way of telling who was friend or foe out here. The only telltale sign was normally whether or not they'd start shooting. A risk he wasn't eager to take right now (or ever really.)

Minutes felt like hours, but soon voices were heard in the distance. 

"You really think someone's in the old cannery??" 

"Shardo picked up some lights inside earlier. Could be synths, could be people." They didn't SOUND like raiders, but even raiders could sound like normal, friendly travelers in order to draw out their prey.

"Then why not send HIM in?? He's like a shadow." The first voice was fairly irritated. 

"Well you could ASK." The next voice was smooth and casual, barely heard above the sound of rain. Just his presence caused the other voices (three or four individual ones to a trained ear) to yelp and curse.

The ghoul held as still as possible, one hand clapped over Cat's mouth while the other still held onto Nick's limp shell of a body. At worst he'd have to drop him and pull out his rifle, but he didn't want to go there right away, if he could help it.

Cat swallowed a lump in her throat and squeezed the detective's pistol in her hands. Maybe they could get in a few shots to surprise them before taking off into the dark (and inevitably tripping down another hole or two.)

"Still don't know how you're holding up as well as you are." The first voice stated after the surprise had died down.

"Mud's never slowed me down." The smoother voice, Shardo, replied. While unseen, the shrug could be heard in his words. 

The idle chatter continued and the footsteps got closer until all of a sudden the noise stopped. The sound of rain filled the air until a previously unspoken person spoke up. "Uh, found something?"

"Maybe." Shardo sounded contemplative. The only thing cluing the listeners in that the man was walking was the slight crunching sound of wet gravel under him. "Looks like... at least three people. One seriously injured."

A murmur came from the others. "Which way were they going?"

"Hard to say with all the rain, but if I had to guess..." The rain seemed sinister in the sudden silence.

Hancock gave Cat a look and mouthed the words 'on go'. The plan was to catch them by surprise and make a run for it. And the more time they wasted, the more soaked Nick got by the rain.

"One," The words come silently.

"Two-"

Before he even got to a 'three', the two sprung up from their hiding spot leaving Nick behind (for his own safety,) guns out but not blazing quite yet. "ALRIGHT BACK OFF, OR I'M GOIN' FERAL!" Hancock growled menacingly (as much as he was able.)

"Y-...YEAH, WHAT- WHAT HE SAID-" Cat stammered, shakily pointing the pistol towards the group.

The group stared at the mayor and the girl. There were four in total, with two already holding their hands up and eyeing each other warily. The third had slipped on the mud and landed on his backside. The fourth, a hooded figure, seemed to only be staring at them. 

One of the men with his hands up spoke. "H-hey, listen now... We're not here to fight... It looks like you need help." He kept his eyes on Cat and Hancock. His companion wavered between looking at their faces, their guns, and the hooded figure that led them.

Off in the distance came a flash and the low rumble of thunder. The sound didn't take terribly long to reach them.

"And how am I supposed to believe somethin' like that huh? Surprised none of you are runnin' for the hills at the sight of me." Hancock always liked to puff himself up, but for good reason. He WAS the mayor of Goodneighbor after all, and his reputation definitely preceded him.

Cat glanced back behind her often towards the ditch. It was obvious someone else was down there.

The hooded man gave a low, humorless chuckle. "Well, if you were feral already, she'd've been dead for one. Since you're bothering to talk to me I'd say you're doing okay for now." His eyes fell on the rip in the ghoul's coat. "Seems you took a hit."

The fellow behind him spoke, nervousness creeping into his voice. "W-we're not trouble, p-promise! W-we're just scouting the border for our town, see? H-h-honest! We'd heard rumors about synths looking around the cannery and came out here to check'm out!" 

"Hah. Got a mouth even while you got a gun pointed at your face. I like that. Not too smart though." Hancock squeezed his rifle just a little harder, remaining still. "...Now then, what town?" Could this be the place Nick was talking about?

The hooded figure moved suddenly to examine the ditch behind them.

"HEY- GET AWAY FROM THERE!" Cat's arms flew up and her gun went off, making everyone jump. Luckily, no one was hit.

The hooded figure ducked instinctively, his hood falling off in the process. His hands shot up afterwards, showing him to be very dark-skinned, with dark curly hair that had stuck to his face due to the rain. His eyes were very pale, so much so they almost seemed to glow in the dark on their own. "I just wanted to see who got injured. You guys are friends with Nick Valentine?" 

The name seemed to pierce the bubble of tension. “Wait, they've got Nick Valentine?” One of the men asked.

"Oh my god, he's hurt?? I didn't think he COULD get hurt, Gawain--"

Gawain's expression turned to one of annoyance. "I swear to god Jerry I'm gonna shut you up if you don't shut yourself up." Slowly his hands came down, though he kept an eye on Hancock the entire time. "Bedevere town, if you GOTTA know."

What were the odds?

"Hey- hey he was talking about that place- we were supposed to go there to get out of the rain once it...well once it kind of STOPPED but it never DID-" Cat blurted out, throwing caution to the wind blowing over them.

Hancock screwed up his face as much as he possibly could. His weapon lowered. "Why am I not surprised to hear the ol' synth gets around?" He rushed over to the ditch and slide back down in the pick him up again, straining and grunting with the effort. "If you were headed to the cannery, then those synths were definitely there. Not anymore though, but we're kind of down one ourself."

A pungent odor came from the synth. His clothes were soaked with more than water. A dark, slick substance that looked like oil and smelled nauseatingly sweet like some kind of syrup stained his usually off-white shirt.

Shardo reached out to help, as did the others. "God, what assholes go and attack their own kind?" The muddied man smiled own joke. No one else laughed. "Teren, you and Jerry make yourselves useful and head back to let them know we're coming. And tell Rotin to have a table set up."

"Here, you watch for raiders, I'll take up this side." Gawain offered to Hancock. Jerry and the now-named Teren headed off ahead of everyone else.

"Well, for one... they're a bunch of mindless slaves working for the Institute." Hancock added offhandedly. "There weren't too many of 'em. They went down like flies." Despite all that had happened, he still found some comfort in bragging about their half-victory. It made his nerves jitter less. "Hey Cat! Let's go! I wanna get outta this rain. Don't much like feelin' like a soggy cardboard box."

Cat frowned, unsure how to really respond. Eventually, she nodded and followed behind everyone else. "How do you guys know him? Nick I mean. Did he stop by your town often?"

Shardo smirked. "Oh yeah, he's been visiting since we started the town. I think he also knew Dad? I dunno. He's not REALLY family but he's nearly as good as that. Well. At least to MY family."

Gawain rolled his eyes. "You're just gonna keep welding on branches to the Bedevere family tree, huh?"

"It's tradition." Shardo chuckled.

"Welding on branches??" Cat repeated, tilting her head a little, clearly confused.

The settlement got closer the farther they walked, and so did the thunder. Hail started to fall from the sky.

"For fuck's sake," The ghoul grumbled, his head sinking under his coat collar just a little bit like a turtle. He didn't care what these people have to say or banter about. "We should pick up the pace." The last thing he wanted was for Nick to suddenly just 'die' for real. "I -HATE- rain." A large piece of hail almost took his hat off his head.

With the growing storm and Hancock's temper, Shardo snapped his focus back to the task at hand. "I can tell you all about it when we get there."


End file.
